Finding Normal
by LiteratureDarling
Summary: The war has been over for a year and everyone has been striving to get back to some form of normal. After ending her relationship with Ron on bad terms, Hermione worries that she will never feel truly welcome at the Burrow again. However, after a relationship with Fred begins to bloom, she hopes that she herself may one day find her way back to normal.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:** Hello lovelies! Just to let you know, I should be updating at least once a week depending on my time constraint. If I am late in posting…blame college and not me. Also, if you happen to enjoy this feel free to leave a comment, like, or favorite…or don't…that's fine too *cries quietly in corner*

**Disclaimer: **All of the lovely characters and places belong to the Queen JK, and unfortunately wishing wells and shooting stars must not be working because I am not her…

**Chapter 1**

Hermione found it unbelievable that it had been nearly a year since the Battle of Hogwarts. 334 days to be precise. 334 days since everything had changed. 334 days since she kissed Ron. 334 days since Fred nearly died (it had been 259 days since he had woken from his medically induced coma). 334 days since Hermione had last set foot on Hogwarts grounds. 334 days. She shook her head in wonder as she slipped on her shoes. Her clothes were strictly muggle today, as she was fulfilling a promise by taking Harry and Ginny to some of her childhood home.

After the war, Harry and Hermione had moved into Grimmold place. Not because they weren't welcome at the Burrow, on the contrary…they were far too welcome. After months on the run, Harry had not quite readjusted to Mrs. Weasleys constant fussing over him. She woke him every morning with breakfast in bed and always inquired as to where he was going or what time he would be coming back. It bothered Harry, but Hermione understood what Mrs. Weasley was going through. After so long of wondering if her children would ever come home, it was well within reason that she would be over nurturing. All the same, Harry had been itching to have his own space.

Hermione on the other hand, left for different reasons. After her kiss with Ron, they both assumed that it kind of entered them into a contract. That they had to date. After nearly a month of awkward dinners and extremely awkward kisses, Hermione ended it. Deep down she knew Ron understood, but after seven years of everyone expecting him to end up with her, he didn't take it well. Most of the time they were friendly but Ron could keep a grudge. So after two months of sullen glares and snide comments Hermione moved in with Harry.

On this particular Saturday, Harry was already dressed and ready to leave when she finally made it downstairs. She smiled as she watched him try and flatten his hair in the hall mirror. Even after all this time, he still got as nervous as a first year around Ginny.  
"Come on Potter, you look great!" She said, ruffling his hair a little before grabbing his hand to apperate.

A moment later they were on the top of the hill, looking down at the Burrow.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Harry said, seeing all the spring flowers in bloom. Hermione nodded. As much as she was glad to be able to leave the Burrow, she was just as glad when she got to come back. She liked that she felt this way. It was how home was supposed to feel. The urge to be anywhere but there mixing with the need to always be able to come back.

They trudged down the hill and through the front gate before Mrs. Weasley, who was kneeling in the front garden, heard them.

"Good morning dears!" She called, wiping the earth from her palms. "I would love a chat but I'm quite determined to get these gnomes out. Head on in, left over breakfast on the table." She called.

"Thank you!" Harry said, already smelling the muffins, he rushed inside.

"How are you Hermione? I feel as if you never pop in anymore." Mrs. Weasley said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. Hermione quickly apologized, saying that work had been extremely hectic lately. She felt immediately felt guilty for lying. Over the past few weeks she had been purposely requesting the night shift at St. Mungos, where she worked part time as a research assistant, so that she couldn't attend the Weasly's dinners. This was mainly due to Ronald, but in part, she felt uncomfortable with the entire atmosphere. She, though everything inside of her knew different, felt as if she did not belong amongst those people. Before they were the trio, she always had a place between them. And now things were different. Harry and Ginny were a singular unit, and though they tried otherwise, it often left Hermione being a third wheel. This was why she was going home that day. She needed to be reminded of where she was coming from. To feel the old walls welcome her again. It was where she grew up, and no spell could change that for her.

"Are you ready to go?" Ginny called out the kitchen window. Hermione could tell she was excited. Since the war Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were being more protective of Ginny, not allowing her to roam the world unchaperoned. Hermione was about to answer when George appeared behind Ginny, causing her to turn from the window to answer some unheard question. Before she could enter the kitchen, she saw Ron round the side of the house.

"So, heard you're going into the city." He said, the malice creeping into his tone. "Didn't think you should invite me?"

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley said, frowning at her son.

"Would you have come, even if I asked?" Hermione said, trying to keep her voice calm and professional.

"Well…no…but you should have asked." He said defensively, and walked quickly back around to the side garden. Hermione turned to go into the kitchen. It sounded as if Ginny and George were fighting again. She sighed, mentally adding another thing to her list from that morning. 334 days since she had a family.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **Why hello dears! I decided to edit and post chapter two, mainly because procrastination is easier than Algebra. As always, if you happen to enjoy this, and wish to let me know, feel free to comment, favorite, or follow this story. But no pressure…it's not like I'm a lonely, poor college student who finds her gratification through posting fanfiction about a couple that will never be, or anything like that. *laughs nervously*

**Disclaimer:** Maybe if I put my pajamas on backwards, flush all the toilets on my hall, and turn around three times I'll be J.K. Rowling? No? Alright then…I guess HP still belongs to her.

**Chapter 2:**

Upon entering the kitchen of the Burrow, Hermione found that her suspicion had been correct. Ginny and George were standing in the center of the kitchen, yelling. Well, Ginny was yelling, while George stood with a not-very-subtle smirk resting on his lips.

"Oh, come off it! I know that's not why! You just can't let me have any fun without having to ruin it." She said, sounding slightly like she was about to throw a temper tantrum. "Harry?" She said looking for support.

"Sorry love." Said Harry, swallowing a bite of muffin. "It's really not up to me…or you." He moved from lounging against the counter toward Hermione. "It's Err-my-neefs defision" He garbled, his mouth yet again full of blueberry muffin.

"Disgusting!" Hermione said with a smile, wiping a few crumbs from her cheek. "And what's my decision?" She asked, George spoke up,

"Well, if it's alright with you, Freddie and I want to tag along on your adventure today!" Hermione, like Ginny, was hesitant. The twins never really interacted with the younger or older Weasleys. They came to dinner once a month, work permitting. But they never sought out quality time with the group.

"Why?" Hermione said, Fred came in from the stairs and plopped down in one of the chairs with a loud _thunk_.

"Because, dearest 'Mione" Fred said, with sleepy sort of drawl "Mum demanded that we spend more Saturdays with the family. She even called the shop today and asked Verity if we were working. Daft girl told her no! She about sent us a Howler when she found out that we were up in the flat working on a new product. She apparated into our living room and demanded we return with her. She should have at least apparated outside our door and knocked. Merlin, she could've seen us naked!" He shook his head, muttering about boundaries, while George picked up where he left off.

"Anyway, the way we figure, we would much rather walk around London with you lot than have to stay here and watch Ron sulk due to his girlfriendlessness." At the last sentence George winked at her. Hermione smiled.

"And why don't you want them to come?" She asked Ginny, who huffed loudly.

"Because going to your house might be emotional. Do you really want these two tossers hanging around?" Hermione knew Ginny meant well, but she also knew that part of Ginny wanted to punish the twins. For what, Hermione wasn't sure. But on many occasions she had seen Ginny shut out the twins merely out of spite.

"The boys can come." She relented. "But only if your wands stay in your pockets and your mouths stay shut." Fred made a show of zipping his mouth closed and giving Hermione the fake key.

"Cross my heart, Hermione. No words will come out of my mouth on pain of ear loss." George said, motioning to his good ear. "Just take us with you." Not long after Ginny finally stopped pouting and Harry had eaten his weight in muffins, the team disapparated from the burrow.

Hermione made sure that they apparated a sizable distance from the prying eyes of any muggles. Ginny brushed her hands off on her jeans.

"I always hate that." She said, before marching off in no direction in particular. "Let's get going, boys." She was still a little upset that I let the twins tag along. I took a moment to gather my bearings before heading off toward my house. Fred walked close behind me, I could hear every breath that he pulled from his lungs. We came to an abrupt stop outside my house. I stood, looking up at the faded white exterior. The curtain in the sitting room window fluttered slightly. I knew it was only the wind. My parents always left the kitchen window open so the house wouldn't feel "stuffy and lonely" when they returned. She smiled as she remembered her mother, suitcase in hand, opening the window before her birthday trip to America.

"We aren't going to be using the house for a while, so why not let the wind stay here?" She had said, to the seven-year-old child. Suddenly, Hermione was yanked from her memory by a warm breath against her neck. She thought, for the briefest of seconds that it could be her mother. Having just returned from Australia. But as soon as the thought formed, her never failing logic put an end to it.

"Hermione, love?" Said Fred, whispering in her ear. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, even though she knew he called everyone 'love'. "You can go in on your own if you'd like. Or not at all. No one is pressuring you." She just shook her head, inhaled deeply, and set off at a brisk pace up the front walk. There was a slight pause before she heard the footsteps of the four behind her. When she reached the front door she withdrew her want as subtly as possible and muttered

"Alohomora" the slight click in the lock told her that she had completed the spell properly. She spent several more seconds than necessary making sure her wand was not clearly visible. She, once it was impossible to delay the moment any further, slowly turned the knob.

"Welcome to my home." She said, ushering her guests in. She stepped in a slow circle in the entry way, reliving the memories again. Her father's winter coat hung on the back of the door and her mother's back-up pair of reading glasses rested on the side table, along with a stack of opened letters. She ran her fingers over a picture of her mother and father. She remembered that day. They had gone into the city for lunch. There was an empty, Hermione sized space, between her mother and her father. She placed her hand over where she used to be.

She suddenly remembered that she was supposed to give Ginny a tour. She turned to find that they had all vanished, except for Harry.

"I think they were trying to give you some space." He said, placing his hand in Hermione's. "You okay?"

"Peachy." She quickly responded. Harry raised an eyebrow at her until she continued. "I just didn't think it would feel so normal. I know it's illogical, but it feels as if my dad were only in his office, and that mum will be returning from the store. That if I close my eyes, when I open them, everything will be alright again." She sighed, pulling her hand from Harry's, and walked toward the kitchen.

"It's not illogical." Harry said, following, "It's like when people who have lost an arm still feel it."

"Phantom limb pain?"

"Yeah, that's it. Your parents, this house, all of it was a part of your life for so long that now that it's gone, you still feel it." Harry sat at the table, not really sure what else to say. "I think that's why Gin kept bugging you to take us. She thought that if you could have some closure that you might start to be happy again."

"I am happy!" Hermione defended. Just then Fred and George came in the kitchen, coming to a stop when they saw Hermione and Harry arguing.

"Sorry to interrupt." Fred said, beginning to leave.

"No, you can stay." Hermione said, "It's fine. Where's Ginny?"

"Last we saw, she was up in the library reading some of the muggle books." George said, sitting in the chair next to Harry. "Harry, did you read in the Prophet that…" Hermione stopped listening to George. She was busy trying to find the tea bags, her parents had rearranged the entire kitchen. Suddenly Fred was beside her,

"How're you holding up?" He said it with a smile, but she could tell he was serious.

"I'm fine. It feels different than I thought, but I'm okay." She smiled, before turning back to her search. "Found them!" She said, pulling out the wooden box her mother kept the tea in.

"You know, I just realized something." Fred said, pulling himself so that he was sitting on the counter next to Hermione.

"And what is that?" She asked, stopping to look up at him.

"Well, with the shop and all, Georgie and I don't get around to the Burrow much." He picked up wooden spoon, twirling it aimlessly. "And you're so busy with work." He tossed the spoon, simultaneously pulling out his wand. "That we haven't seen you since March!" He charmed the spoon so it flew around the room like an airplane.

"I would have been there more, but I work is so busy." Hermione said, taking a sip of her tea. Fred winked,

"Right. Just like I had to work today." He smiled, speaking quietly as if telling her a secret. "Don't feel bad 'Mione. Everyone needs a break from my git of a brother sometimes. Honestly, he spent the whole morning stomping around upstairs, sulking. I wanted to break up with him, and we haven't even dated." He said laughing. He flicked his wand so that the spoon, which had been doing figure eights around the ceiling dropped back to earth, right on Harry's head.

"Oww!" Harry said, looking from Fred to Hermione. "What was that for?"

"You looked a little too happy, mate. Just restoring order." Fred joked, picking up the spoon and returning it to its proper place. Ginny entered the kitchen then, frowning at the twins.

"We should probably go soon. I promised mum I'd be back for lunch and you know what a riot she'll have if I'm not." Hermione nodded, swallowing the rest of her tea and quickly cleaning the cup and kettle. She hadn't even looked around the rest of the house, but she felt as if she had found the 'closure' that Ginny wanted her to. Harry was right, her parents were gone, and as much as she wished she was ten again…she wasn't. It was time to remember that.

"Alright" George said grabbing Harry and Fred's hands, in preparation to disapparate. Fred held out his hand for Hermione, who took it gladly. He gave it a squeeze,

"See going back wasn't that bad." He said, "And I meant what I said, I missed seeing you so often." Before Hermione could respond George apparated them back to the Burrow, where everything was as it always was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Hello you fantastic things you! Since it is the beginning of the semester, and all of my classes are relatively easy so far, I have decided to post a chapter a day (at least until I run out of one's I wrote over break). Anyway, if you happen to be enjoying this and want to grace me with your opinion, feel free to favorite, comment, or follow.

**Disclaimer**: _Update:_ I have not yet found a magic genie lamp and therefore I cannot make series four of Sherlock appear nor I am I J.K. Rowling yet. Which unfortunately means…I don't own Harry Potter.

**Chapter 3:**

The loud crack that accompanied their apparition caused several birds to scatter from nearby trees. Mrs. Weasley peeked out the kitchen window. She motioned for them to hurry saying something that was lost in the rustle of wind in the high grass surrounding the left side of the Burrow.

"What?" Ginny called, when they were within earshot.

"Lunch is getting cold, and Percy only has an hour off work. Hurry in." Mrs. Weasley called back. They walked through the door and as the Fred passed she whacked him in the back of the head with the palm of her hand.

"Bloody Hell, mom! What was that for?" Fred said, who had stopped so suddenly Hermione had run into him.

"Fredrick! Language!" She barked, hitting him again. "You forgot to mention to me that you all were going into the city today. I walked all around this house calling your names. I didn't plan on spending an hour of my afternoon playing hide-and-seek with people who weren't even in the house!" Without missing a beat, Fred's expression took on one of concern.

"Didn't Ron tell you we were going? He promised he'd tell you." Said Fred, seriously

"Yeah, I heard him!" Affirmed George, "Ron said he would let you know that we were leaving." Hermione didn't remember any such conversation transpiring, but right when she was about to speak up. Fred caught her eye and winked. He placed a finger to her lips.

"Don't ruin it." He said. A moment later, the twins got the show they were hoping for. Ron came trudging into the kitchen, his red hair plastered to his face from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and plopped down in one of the chairs.

"I see you lot got back just in time for lunch." He said, sullenly. "Figured you would've eaten in the city."

"Mum's food is better." Ginny said, smiling at her mother. Mrs. Weasely didn't notice the clear attempt at brown nosing because her eyes were trained on Ron.

"Yes, Fred and George are back. It would have been helpful if you had told me that they left, Ronald."

"I figured you knew." Ron yawned. Not yet realizing the edge in Mrs. Weasley's voice.

"Really, you figured I knew? How for Merlin's sake would I know if you didn't tell me?" She said, hitting him with the wash rag that hung on her arm.

"What are you talking about? I went up to take a nap before they left and haven't been down since. Why would I come tell you that they left? I don't bloody care where they go!"

"It's okay, mum. He probably just got sleepy and forgot. No need to yell at ickle Ronniekins for needing his afternoon nap." George said, ruffling Ron's already ruffled hair.

"Come off it!" Ron said, waking up slightly at the insult. "You didn't tell me anything. Hell, I haven't even spoken to you since Monday."

"No, dear brother, you haven't spoken to me since Monday." Fred piped up, grinning "You spoke to George earlier, in this very room, when he asked you to tell Mum that we were leaving." Ron was turning a rather alarming shade of red. He looked between the twins as if trying to figure out which to hex first. Mrs. Weasley, however, wasn't so convinced. This might have been because Harry and Ginny were snorting from their effort to keep from laughing, but most likely it was because she did know her boys. Hermione, deciding that Ron deserved a little payback for how Ron treated her earlier spoke up.

"Ron, he did ask you." She said, in a voice she hoped was both authoritative and patronizing. "Remember? I had just come in the kitchen when he asked you. You were eating a chocolate of some sort from above the stove." Hermione smiled sweetly as if she was only trying to jog his memory. Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow at Ron. Hermione knew that Mrs. Weasley kept a supply of honeydukes chocolates above the stove for special occasions. No one, not even Harry, was allowed to eat them without permission.

"Ronald Billius Weasley! I've told you those are not to be eaten. No wonder you don't remember, you were too busy gorging yourself on sweets! You, young man, are spending the rest of the afternoon de-gnoming the back garden!" She said, before slapping him several times more with the wash rag. He, momentarily forgetting lunch, stomped out the door and around the side of the house. All the while cursing under his breath.

Right then a buzzing from the laundry room caught Mrs. Weasley's attention.

"That'll be the washing." She said, hurrying off to switch it over. As soon as she was out of earshot, they all burst into laughter. Fred turned to Hermione, lifted her off her feet, and spun her in a circle.

"Love, you really are the brightest witch of your age." He said, awestruck. George clapped her on the back.

"That was bloody brilliant, 'Mione!" He said, between bursts of laughter. "I was just hoping for some shouting at best! Did you see his face? Oh, Fred, this one is going in our book as the best thing Hermione has ever done!" Hermione smiled, feeling the guilt begin to creep in. It slithered, like vines, around her chest. Squeezing her heart until she felt it might burst. No matter how Ron had treated her, she had no right to retaliate. After all, it was her fault he was in so much pain. All her fault. If she had just stuck it out, maybe things would have worked. Maybe they would still be the trio. But she hadn't, and now she had to deal with the repercussions…she shouldn't make it any worse. Suddenly, lunch felt like a very bad idea. Her stomach, twisted itself into a knot that any sailor would envy.

"Um, I don't feel very well. I think I'm just going to go home." She said to no one in particular.

"Come on, Hermione. You aren't going to stay for lunch? I thought we could play exploding snap after." Ginny said, disappointed. The guilt worsened. Due to her avoidance of Ron, she had also been avoiding her friend. She smiled at Ginny with as much happiness as she could muster.

"Sorry Gin, but I really just need to lie down."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry asked, placing a hand on her forehead.

"No, I'll be fine. I just need some fresh air and a rest." She said, quickly going out the door and heading up the hill. Away from the burrow.

It wasn't until she was about to disapparate that she heard a voice behind her.

"He deserved it, you know. He's being a real git about the whole situation." Hermione turned to see Fred, behind her. She sighed,

"I never said he didn't. I just don't feel well." She said, taking a step back. He countered, stepping forward.

"Yeah…sure. How about a healing potion, or we could take you to St. Mungos." He was calling her bluff, and he knew it too.

"Fine. You win." She said, crossing her arms. "I feel guilty about being rude to Ronald. I know I shouldn't but I do." He smiled, and held out his hand.

"Come on, I know what'll make you feel better." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"What?" She asked, not in the mood for any sort of prank.

"It's a surprise, you'll love it. I promise." He said, crossing his heart with his wand.

"It's not some trick?" She asked, holding her hand a few inches above his.

"Would I ever trick you?" He asked, sounding very offended.

"Yes." She responded

"Fine, but this isn't a trick. I swear on my good looks and charm." He said with a wink. She relented, placing her hand in his. The moment she did he smiled victoriously, and without another word put his other hand over her eyes and disappparated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Hello my dear readers. I feel the need to remind you how beautiful and fantastic you are, because I don't tell you enough. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I enjoyed wasting my time writing this. If you would like to comment, favorite, or follow that would be pretty fetch! (I know "fetch" isn't going to happen, but I will continue to try until it catches on)

**Disclaimer:** I looked into selling my soul to the Devil so that I could be J.K. Rowling. Unfortunately, the paperwork required was just too extensive and the line at the Devil's soul selling check in desk was out the gate and around the corner. Therefore I am not J.K. Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter.

** Chapter 4:**

Hermione gasped as she apparated into darkness. She immediately realized that it wasn't actually darkness, only Fred's hand covering her eyes. Her hand was still in his, her body curled against his chest as if they had frozen, mid-twirl in an elaborate waltz.

"Do you mind?" She said after a moment of him not moving.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He released her hand, still holding her eyes in darkness. "Are you ready to see one of my favorite places in the entire world?"

"I don't know." Hermione said, squirming a little, as she was still pressed firmly against his chest.

"Well no backing out now!" He replied gleefully. "Behold…." He removed his hand, blinding Hermione with the sunlight. After a moment of squinting, her eyes began to adjust. There was a thick tree line behind her, and before her was a steep hill. Not dangerously steep, only very long with a gradual slope. At the bottom of the hill was a familiar sight.

"The Burrow?" She exclaimed, realizing now that they were on the top of the tall hill directly behind the house. She could just make out the grey line of a bench in the back gardens that was where Ron and she had broken up. The guilt, which had been momentarily forgotten, returned with a vengeance. "You just took me to the other side. We could've walked."

"But that would have ruined the surprise." He said, gesturing widely to what lay before her he added "What do you think?"

"It's a hill."

"Yes!" He said defensively, "But it's a big hill." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, um, it's a very nice hill, Fred, but this is your favorite place?" He sat down on the grass, motioning for her to sit too.

"Well, there is a story that goes with it." He said. Leaning up against a fallen log. "When George and I were little, eleven or twelve maybe. We decided to convince mum that she really only had one twin and that she had been calling George by two names his whole life." Hermione laughed, "It took a lot of planning. It was one of our first big pranks. We had to get Bill's help to charm all of the family photos so it only had George in it. Then we had to hide all of my stuff in a trunk in the closet so that if mum came into our room she would see George's stuff and then an empty bed. On the day it was supposed to go down my only job was to get as far from the house as possible, so that mum wouldn't find me." He ran a hand through his hair smiling. "She knew all of our hiding places back then. So I decided I would climb up this hill and hide in the woods until George came and got me.

"Well, after like four hours I started to get bored, and I decided I would go and hide in my closet with all my stuff. Well when I was starting down the hill, I tripped over my own shoelace and down I went. I rolled down the entire hill! It was fantastic. Anyway, mum didn't fall for the prank, and she was furious that I somehow managed to get grass stains on every inch of my body. We got grounded for a month."

"And that is a favorite memory of yours?" Hermione asked, wondering why a failed prank made it on the list of best things to happen to him.

"Yeah, rolling down that hill was the most fun I had had in my entire life. Now whenever life gets to stressful, I take a nice roll down the hill and it puts everything in perspective. It's hard to feel down when your entire world is spinning!" He jumped up, hauling Hermione up with him. "Come on! It's time to roll!" Hermione stepped away,

"Oh no! There is no way I am doing that!" He stuck out his bottom lip,

"Come on 'Mione, you're gonna make me roll down this hill on my own?"

"Yep. There could be rocks and you said it yourself, I would get covered in stains."

"No rocks. Every spring I clear the rocks out. And you are a witch Hermione. I'm pretty sure you are capable of a first-year level cleaning spell." Hermione shook her head again, but was smiling. He had her. "Okay, keep your arms tucked in your body and don't worry about going in a straight line. Just go where the hill takes you." He laid down at the top of the hill, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Come on," He said, waiting until she did the same. Hermione could not believe she was doing this. It was totally reckless and childish. All the same, when Fred yelled go she rolled over the edge.

The entire world was spinning, her eyes could not adjust as her world quickly from grass to sky and back again, so she shut them tightly. She heard the swish of Fred passing her. Right as her stomach began to feel a little queasy she reached the bottom. For a moment, she decided to stay on her back, at least until it no longer felt as if she had drank her weight in fire whiskey. She heard the soft sound of Fred lying down next to her. She turned her head and opened her eyes a fraction of an inch, the bright light washing everything in white. When her eyes adjusted, she saw Fred lying a few inches away from her. His hands folded under his head, looking up at the clouds. However, when he felt her gaze he turned to meet her stare.

"Fun, wasn't it?"

"Um, I guess." She responded "Totally and completely nauseating, but not horrible."

"And, grumpy and guilty Hermione has been replaced by funny and nauseous Hermione." He tapped her nose with his finger. "And though both are fantastic, I prefer the second one." She felt herself blushing. Fred had a way of complimenting girls in the most touching way. Hermione knew his reputation. When she was a prefect, she had even caught a group of Ravenclaw sixth years with a betting pool on how long it would take for Fred Weasley to bed Padma Patil. The bets had ranged from a few hours to a few weeks but nothing more than that.

"What do you see?" Hermione asked, pointing her finger toward the sky.

"Clouds." Fred answered

"No, like the game. What do you see in the clouds?" Fred looked confused,

"What game? Maybe it's a muggle thing?" He said, "How do you play?"

"Well it's not a real game. There aren't points or a winner. You just try to see things in the clouds."

"That's no fun." Fred said, "I hated reading tea leaves, why would I want to read clouds if there isn't even a winner?" He looked at the clouds, maybe trying to find a picture. "How about the person who finds the best one wins?"

"But there isn't a winner." Hermione said, sighing "that's not how this game works."

"What's wrong Granger, afraid of a little competition?" He said, nudging her shoulder with his. She smiled at him

"Not if you aren't worried about losing. I'll even let you go first." He turned his attention back to the sky. After a minute he pointed,

"See that big one, right over the oak tree by the back garden? It looks like a whale with a man on its back. See?"

"Not at all!" Hermione said, seeing only a vague shape of a whale tail.

"See that part is the tail, and the round part is the head. And then there is that little cloud next to it. That's the head of the man." Hermione tilted her head a little.

"Maybe." She said, "But that's kinda pushing it."

"Well you try to do better." He said. She looked at the clouds. Scanning the white fluff for any familiar looking shapes.

"There!" She crowed happily. "That one right over the Burrow. It looks like an anatomical heart. See, the chambers!" He frowned.

"Okay, maybe. But I think you charmed it, no cloud could be that perfectly shaped. I demand a rematch!"

"I did no such thing!" Hermione said, "But I will take you up on the rematch." Hermione turned her attention back to the clouds, but not before she saw Fred put his wand back in his pocket. He had been right, the cloud was too perfect to have been formed without magic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Hello dearies, I am so terribly sorry for not posting this sooner. Honestly I had to do some major editing on this, not to mention write a twenty page research paper on feminism…so I've been busy. Anywho, I think I will probably switch to posting once or twice a week now. As my time is getting stretched pretty thin. Also, I am going to go back a re-edit chapters 1-4. I reread them and boy…editing at two AM is not a good idea. Feel free to comment, favorite, and follow this story.

**Disclaimer:** Alas, not all dreams can come true. As much as I wish it, I am not the queen J.K. and she owns Harry Potter. Because trust me…if I did own it, Fred would be alive and well.

** Chapter 5:**

The sound of Harry opening the front door jolted Hermione from her thoughts. She was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the consolations of tea leaves swirled in the bottom of her cup. Though she never believed in Professor Trelawney's methods, she found herself wishing that those tea leaves could somehow tell her a few answers.

"Hey 'Mione. How are you feeling?" He said, dropping a kiss on her forehead and ruffling her hair. "You missed an interesting evening." He pulled open the refrigerator looking for something to eat.

"I swear, you eat more than Ron does! And I'm much better, thanks." Harry continued to rummage. "There are leftover's from that muggle Chinese place, I took Ginny to. They're in the take away box if you want them." Hermione said absently as she stirred her tea so she could watch the tea leaves as a child watches a snow globe.

"Thanks," Harry said, using a heating spell on the leftovers. Grabbing a fork he sat down across from her.

"So, what happened that made tonight so interesting" Hermione said, as Harry shoveled the chicken into his mouth at an alarming rate.

"Well." He said, putting his fork down and summoning a bottle of water from the fridge. "Right after you left, Fred said he needed to help Verity close the shop." He took a large swallow of the water. Hermione focused on not turning red as she thought of what Fred was really doing. "Mrs. Weasley was furious that he skipped out on dinner and you know how she gets." Hermione nodded,

"That's not so interesting. Fred does that sort of thing all the time." She said as casually as possible. Even though nothing at all was going on between Fred and her, she couldn't let anyone think otherwise. Especially Ron. She shuddered at the thought of the hell he would put her through. Part of him still assumed that Hermione belonged to him. Not that she ever did.

"Well no. But anyway, Ron was madder than Umbridge when Fred finally came back. He hadn't spoken to George all evening and was even upset with me." Somehow Harry and Ron had managed to stay friends, though Harry made sure he and Ron never spent time at Grimmold place together. "So Ginny was fed up with Ron refusing to play exploding snap with the rest of us and said some snarky comment. I don't even remember what." Hermione's tea had gone cold, but she still stirred it with her finger.

"Anyway, the point is that Ron went on a rampage. He started shouting that no one in the Burrow respects him anymore, and that we are all taking your side. You know how he is. He didn't mean any of it, but he kind of insulted you." Harry said, pausing to gage Hermione's reaction. She knew Ron was upset with her, of course he was. But she felt an ache settle into her bones. Up until this point she had only assumed Ron spoke about her to his other friends, knowing well enough not to do it in front of Harry. She was sure that Lee and Neville had gotten earfuls during his "guys' nights." But now Hermione was sure. There was no sugar coating Ron's hate of her now. Though after how she treated him, she didn't blame him.

"But here's the weird part. So he said some…um less than favorable things about you, and Fred flipped out. Merlin's beard did he freak out. He punched Ron in the face!" Harry was somehow managing to eat, laugh, and talk at the same time. He had grown very animated and was now waiting expectantly for Hermione's reaction.

"Why would he do that?" Hermione asked, her tone a little too serious for the situation. Harry frowned a little.

"I guess he just needed an excuse to punch Ron. Don't get me wrong, he's my best mate, but he's been a real git lately. Especially toward you. We've all wanted to punch him, Fred was just the first to do it."

"Well what did Fred do after he punched Ron?" Hermione asked, her tea completely forgotten.

"He just flooed out. I guess he went home. He was acting weird all through dinner, maybe he caught whatever you had." Harry said as if suddenly remembering that Hermione had been sick. "Are you still nauseous?"

"No, I had a little walk and I was fine. But I figured I should come home just in case."

"That was probably best. Do you work tonight?"

"Nope, in fact, I think I'm going to turn in. I'm exhausted" Hermione said, standing and knocking the tea cup to the ground. It broke in a shatter of blue shards.

"Merlin!" Hermione nearly shouted, jumping back, already spattered with tea. "I got it Harry. You should get to bed, it's almost midnight." She said, peering at the clock above the stove. He nodded, muttering a farewell before moving toward his bedroom. Hermione bent down, picking up the remnants of the cup. "Ouch!" She cried as a piece sliced against the palm of her hand. She quickly threw the rest of the pieces in the bin, before looking at her hand. Blood was mingled with tea that dripped from her fingers. She held a wash rag to the wound as she finished cleaning. She could have used a simple healing spell to mend the wound, but she didn't. Instead she wrapped a bandage around her hand and went to bed. The idea of just erasing the cut as if it never happened didn't seem very fair. It was a result of her own carelessness and she decided the subtle sting was suitable punishment.

Hermione tucked her injured hand under the blankets as the slight breeze stung. She lay, letting her thoughts swirl like the tea leaves. That afternoon had been the most fun she had since before the war. Since before Ron. And Fred had seemed different to her. Since he had woken from his coma he had been more subdued than his pranking twin, but today he had seemed normal. Back to the Fred Weasley who charmed the sky in the great hall to rain blood during her third year. She missed that Fred, even though they had never been friends. But after the hill and the clouds Hermione thought that she and Fred might be friends. No to mention the story that Harry told her. She couldn't even process that. Fred shouldn't feel the need to defend her, but he did. And she had to remember to thank him the next time she saw him. Perhaps she now had a reason to finally visit the shop again, she hadn't been since sixth year. Hermione fell asleep then, with the wonderful anticipation of a second visit with Fred.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Hello loves! So we made it to chapter six! It's not much of a milestone, but the simple things in life should be celebrated. Today I am receiving the lovely gift of a snow day. So I might just hide in my room, avoiding responsibility, and write you all another chapter. Wouldn't that be lovely? Anyway, if you would like, feel free to review, favorite, follow, or comment on this. Also, if you so desire, give me suggestions on what you think should happen next, I love it when the reader is involved in the creating of the story.

**Disclaimer:** If I was JKR, I wouldn't have to be writing fanfiction about a world where Fred wasn't dead. I would just never kill him off in the first place! 

** Chapter 6:**

At this time of night the Leaky Cauldron changed. Gone were the cheerful witches and wizards getting food and chatting about their shopping trips. Although some perfectly normal people were housed in the upstairs portion, the bar became a rather seedy place after midnight. The bar was taken up mostly by the drunkards, who needed constant access to their next refill: While the booths were taken up by the lonely. They could be spotted on sight, their vacant eyes staring into the firewhiskey, the down set corners of their mouths and the twitching of their eyes as if they couldn't decide if they wanted to weep or scream. Sometimes they did both. Other than the occasional outburst of a drunk patron, the entire pub was quiet. There was no music beyond the steady clanking of glasses and low mumbling of asking for another round. So when the door burst open with such forces that it banged against the wall, most eyes turned to see the redheaded figure who walked in.

"George! Haven't seen you in months! Has the prodigal returned?" Bart called to the figure, who happened to be George Weasley. After the war, in those months when Fred had laid nearly dead at St. Mungos, George had found ways to numb his worries. One of which was getting sloshed most nights and returning to the empty flat to sleep in Fred's bed.

"Bart!" George, who happened to be said figure, called out to the bartender. "Where's my brother?" Bart looked up, not really surprised, in his line of business nothing surprised him anymore. He ran a hand through this rather long hair and shook his head.

"Sorry George, Ron's not here. Hasn't been since Tuesday when I kicked him out for nearly jumping over the bar." He laughed to himself. That had been an interesting night.

"No, not Ron." George said, looking around the costumers, searching for red "That prat is at home, learning the value of healing spells. I'm looking for Fred. You know, tall red hair, looks just like me." Bart laughed again, gesturing toward a corner booth that was away from all prying eyes. George nodded a thank you before heading off to get his twin.

The sound of George sliding into the opposite side of the booth, jarred Fred from his thoughts.

"Hey Freddie." George said, his voice holding a slight tinge of annoyance. "Do you want to tell me what you're doing at a pub at one in the morning or am I going to have to drag mum into this?" Fred didn't answer, he simply looked down at his hand resting on the table. There were several small bruises forming along his knuckles from where his fist had collided his Ron's nose earlier that evening.

"Please tell me you don't regret punching that tosser?" George said,

"Hell no!" Fred said, looking up to meet his twin's eyes.

"Then why are you here, drowning your sorrows?"

"I'm not drowning my sorrows, I just…I…I don't know why I punched him."

"What do you mean you don't know why?" Said George incredulously. "He was being an idiot and you were fixing that."

"But you don't get it George. I was so mad, I really wanted to hurt him. Not just teach him a lesson or get him to shut up. I wanted him to feel pain. Why?" Fred looked miserably into his lap. "You know what he said to me? Right after I hit him? He looked at me right in the eye, blood rushing from his nose and whispered 'she's mine, and I can say whatever I bloody want about her. She will always be mine.' I wanted him to burn in that moment. For him to just erupt into flames, so I could watch. How terrible is that?" His twin, sat quietly for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally it came to him,

"If Ron had said those things about me. What would you do? If he yelled and called me a mudblood, or a bitch, or anything else he said about Hermione. What would you have done?" Fred looked up, "You would have punched him, or worse. Why?" George prodded, trying to get his twin to respond.

"Because you're my brother."

"Right." Said George. "And you care about me."

"George, if you're trying to say that I fancy Hermi-"

"I'm not." George said, raising his hands in surrender, even though that was exactly what he was doing. "I'm just saying that you care about her. And you were being a protective friend. She's not anyone's property, especially not his. You were doing the right thing." Fred nodded, agreeing with him. "And anyway, even if you did fancy her. That would be okay. She's a fantastic girl. I would only tease you a little."

"I don't fancy her!" He said loudly. "I know she's fantastic, and pretty, and smart. And Merlin, she can make me laugh. But that doesn't mean I fancy her." Even though he said it as a statement, his voice went up at the end as if, in the course of the sentence, he became unsure if what he was saying was true.

"Alright mate, I won't push you. But when you're ready to admit it to yourself, I'm here for you. But don't make me come hunting for you in the middle of the night. If you're going to storm off, at least tell me where you're going." George stood, gesturing toward the door. Fred got up, following him out into the street.

"You know," George said, as they walked past the darkened store windows in the general direction of their shop. "If you did start dating Hermione, it would sure upset Ron. Can you imagine the look on that slimily gits face, if you walked into dinner one night and snogged her, tongue and all, right in front of him? Oh I would give my entire life savings to see that." Fred punched him in the arm,

"Don't get your hopes up on that, George, because one: Ron would take all of his anger out on her, and two: I DON'T FANCY HER!" He yelled. George laughed, doubling over in the middle of the street, because of his twin's indifference to his own feelings.

"Okay, okay. I'm done. But you have to admit, Ron's face would be priceless." Fred smiled a little, at the thought of Ron's beet red face or of Hermione's lips on his, George didn't know.

"It might be funny." He conceded, "But I'm still not gonna do it." They had reached their flat then, walking in not bothering to flip on the lights. George, pausing at the door to the bathroom, turned to look at Fred. With a smirk that would rival Malfoy, he said

"Fine. If you're too big of a pansy to do it, then I might just snog her myself." Shutting and locking the door, before Fred could even think of a response.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Hello dears! I felt as if I needed to give you guys a little more insight into what's going on in Ron's head (so sorry there isn't really any Fremione action in this chapter and that it's on the short side). Also I love hearing from you fantastic readers and would greatly appreciate some reviews. I've been dealing with some writer's block over how to continue so feel free to drop me some ideas. I will definitely give you credit if I decide to use one.

**Disclaimer:** If I was JKR, I wouldn't have to hoard quarters like gold so that I could do my laundry. Also if I was JKR, I would not be doing my own laundry in general. So it is suffice to say that I am not her and do not own HP.

** Chapter 7:**

Ron awoke suddenly, the fragments of dream ripped away by the banging on his door. He rubbed his nose where Fred had punched him. Even though it was quickly healed, it felt odd to him. At the very thought of Fred a surge of anger began to boil his blood. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why he had reacted so violently. Ron had seen the look in his brother's eyes. It was one of pure disgust, it was as if he cared for…no that couldn't be it. He must have just been looking for a reason to hit him. The banging on the door intensified.

"Bloody hell Ginny! It's not even eight, what in Merlin's name is the matter." He nearly yelled, flinging the door open. "Oh." Was all he managed when, instead of Ginny, he was met with a very stern looking Mrs. Weasley.

"Ha, you'd be lucky if it were Ginny. But she's still refusing to speak to you." She said, pushing past him into the room. Groaning he shut the door behind her. After the fiasco last night she hadn't said a word. He knew that sooner or later she would corner him, he was hoping that when it happened he would at least be wearing pants. "And, I am going to overlook your vial tongue that was just used because you are already up to your ears in trouble." She continued, motioned for him to sit on the bed, so that she could tower over him.

"Mum, why must we do this now. Harry and I were planning on going to Hogsmede today to meet with the guys." He whined, pulling on a pair of jeans before lounging back on the bed.

She stabbed her finger at his chest, puncturing the air with every word.

"We're doing this now, Ronald, because you are being a childish…well…child!" She yelled. "And, I did not raise my children to say such horrid things about a person. Look at me when I am talking Harry stopped by this morning to pick up Ginny. He said to tell you that he didn't want to see your face until you learned some respect for the feelings of Hermione." She said after Ron had begun to stare out the window.

"I was just angry, I didn't mean it." He huffed,

"I know very well that you didn't mean it." Mrs. Weasley said, "But you said it anyway. And to all of those people there—all of those people who care for Hermione just as much as they care for you—heard you say it. And do you think, for one second that they are ever going to think of you the same way?" She said, her voice rising again. "And what about Hermione? What about her Ronald? Did you ever stop to think how she would feel?"

"She wasn't even there—"

"But you know Harry or Ginny have told her by now. You know that. In one moment you ruined every chance of ever becoming her friend again. You said vile things that should never be spoken anywhere, let alone my home. You have treated your best friend, a girl who has always been there for you, like she was no better than a dog." She seemed to have talked herself out, as she just stood above him, shaking her head in disappointment. And, for the first time, he felt a tiny tendril of guilt worming its way into his brain.

"Fine, mum. Yes, I was a total prat. I shouldn't have said what I said. But have you ever stopped to think about how I feel in all of this. To have to see the girl who broke my heart wander around my house every effing day! How it feels when my siblings, when my best mate, would rather be with her than with me. Don't you think I have a right to be upset?" He yelled, collapsing back into the bed. He felt the mattress bend as Mrs. Weasley sat down next to him.

"Yes dear, I do understand heartbreak. I was young too. I know what it's like to have someone break this part of you that you always thought you needed. I remember the feeling of crushing weight as if the entire world has suddenly converged on your head and no one can see it but you." She said softly, drawing his face so that he had to look at her. "But I have also been on the other side of the mirror. I have had to do the breaking. Try to think of her. How your hurtful words and spiteful glares must feel to her. She honestly thought she was doing what was best, for the both of you. She is dealing with the same sort of pain you are, but at least she still manages to be kind to you. She still speaks without malice, she still looks you in eye, bearing all the weight of your hatred. Can you think of what it must be like for her, to have Harry or Ginny wake her and tell her that 'Ron called you a filthy mudblood'. Can you imagine what that must do to her?" Mrs. Weasley stood, walking toward the door.

"I still hate her." Ron said from underneath the pillow he hand thrown over his face. "I hate her so much."

"I know dear." Mrs. Weasley said, "But you still love her. And that makes your hatred hurt so much worse. Trust me when I say that it won't get any better until you talk it out" She shut the door behind her, and Ron let out a relieved sigh, it hadn't been half as bad as he feared it to be. He hadn't even gotten in troub—

The door opened again and Mrs. Weasley popped her head in,

"Oh and dear? Because your mouth seems to need some cleaning, you will be scrubbing the entire kitchen…the muggle way." She smiled too sweetly, and shut the door, humming as she went down to the kitchen to owl Hermione. If Mrs. Weasley knew one thing, it was how to formulate a plan.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **We did it my lovelies! We are at 10,000 words…how cool is that? I would make you all some sort of medal if I could…but I can't. Anyway, hopefully this will make you feel a little better since there was no Fremione action in Chapter 7. As always I would love to hear your feedback or your opinions. Thanks for reading

**Disclaimer:** Alas, I am not J.K. Rowling and I do not own HP…because if I were her I would never have written that epilogue *shudders in horror* because if I were JKR I wouldn't let a wonderful thing like Hermione end up with Ron.

** Chapter 8:**

The joke shop was busy for a Sunday. Witches and Wizards came in masses, a never ceasing stream through the front door. Perhaps it was simply because it was one of the first warm Sundays in spring. Fred was busy stocking a shelf of darkness powder when he saw a head of brown hair pass him. He whirled so fast that he knocked over a display of a nosebleed nougat unto the floor. His heart sped up and he could feel his palms begin to sweat. All day, every time he saw a girl who resembled _her_, he would make a fool of himself. He refused to think her name, as every time he did his stomach did a weird flip that left him breathless. No doubt it was due to feeling guilty over yesterday. Yes that had to be it.

He apologized to the brown haired girl which had caused the spill. She smiled and helped him right the stand. His heart sank a little when the eyes that stared back at him were not the warm chocolate brown that he had been hoping for, but dull blue ones. She didn't even look like…Hermione. The stranger had a pointy face a sleek brown hair that was pinned into some sort of bun or something on the top of her head. She was all sharp edges while Hermione was softness and curls.

"Sorry." He mumbled again, turning his back on the stranger to finish cleaning up. She said something in response but he didn't hear what it was. He was trying very hard to rationalize his reaction and was doing a pretty good job until he heard a laugh from behind him.

"You're even more out of it than usual Fred, what's the deal?" Verity said, shoving her way past a group of kids crowded around the fallen display. "Out of the way runts. Come back in five minutes or all hex you all until your toes turn green." They dispatched quickly, not doubting the rather intimidating look in her eyes.

"Nothing's the deal, I just knocked over a display. It happens all the time." Fred said, a little perturbed.

"Really? Then why is it that you have been attempting to restock the same shelf for the past forty minutes?" She said with a smirk. "Anyway, I'm not here to comment on your obvious preoccupation."

"Then what can I do for you?" Fred said, trying his best not to snap at Verity. He knew that she was just being her normal snarky self, it wasn't her fault he had laid awake half the night with thoughts of the evening buzzing inside his head like an angry hornet.

"Well Mr. Grumpy Pants—"

"You seem to forget that I am the one that gives you your paycheck, you should treat me like a king!" Fred said with a wink.

"Right, my bad. Mr. Grumpy Pants Sir, your brother would like you to give him the honor of your presence in the back room, if that is not too much to ask of a noble as yourself, your Lordship." She said with a level of sarcasm rivaling that of Ginny. She turned to go back to the register, however, before she did she bent down in a sweeping bow. He laughed and finished stocking the powder before trying to part the sea of the crowds to go and find his brother.

* * *

"Brother! There you are!" George said, standing up from working over one of the cauldrons. He wiped his hands that were covered in a magenta slime on his already stained shirt. Fred laughed pointing to his twin's attire,

"You might want to think about not using your body as a wash rag for your hands. You do remember that's the shirt that Angelina bought you for your birthday. I don't think she would be too happy to know you are covered in…" He looked at the list of scribbled notes on the sheet of paper by the work station "Semi-permanent glow in the dark tattoo paint? Really? We tried that over the summer and you ended up with the word 'wanker' written on your forehead for a month. I thought we closed the book on this one forever." George shrugged,

"I figured that I might try again. I thought that adding some of the same basic ingredients that are in invisible ink would help in to fade, but when I added the extract of glow in the dark squid it turned pink." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, speckling it with pink slime. "Remind me to ask mum for that stain remover charm, you're right about Angelina getting madder than a troll if she saw this." He gestured to his shirt. "Better yet, I'll just bring the laundry to mum and she can fix it herself. We can pop over for lunch, I'm starving and I've been dying for some of her mince pie and I know she was making them for last night…before you went all muggle crazy on Ron's face." He laughed to himself. Fred shook his head,

"I don't think I should go. After all, you said it yourself, I just went all 'muggle crazy on Ron's face', I doubt that I should be around the tosser right now." George flopped down on the couch that leaned against the wall.

"Are you still hung up on that, brother? It's been what, 20 hours? Time to move on! Are you just going to lie down and miss out on mince pie!" He rubbed his stomach at the thought of it.

"I just don't want to cause more conflict, besides there's work to do here. I can stay and do some more work on this idea of yours."

"No, you would stay here and mope about Hermione like you have been all morning. Honestly a pygmy puff would be more help than you've been! Every time any witch with hair that could possible resemble brown, you flip." He shook his head "It isn't helpful, you need to clear your head."

"I'm not moping over Hermione. I don't even have a reason too." Fred said, his cheeks pinking slightly.

"Save it for someone who will believe your little delusions. You need to go somewhere where you have absolutely no chance of seeing her. Maybe that way you can actually clear your head for long enough to see that you fancy her."

"We've already been over this." Fred sighed, rubbing his temple. "And anyway, the Burrow is like her second home. What would make her from stopping in to see Ginny or Mum?"

"Well I happen to know that Ginny and Harry are on some lovey dovey date somewhere, and do you really think she's going to waltz right into Ron's stomping ground after last night? Trust me, it will do you good. Plus…" He said, standing and shrugging off his work robes. "If you're in need of another good reason for going, I have two words for you." He punched them out of the times clock on the wall, turning to fix his twin with a wicked smile.

"Mince pies" they said at the same time, before exiting from the back door and disapparating in search of food.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Hello dears! It's been a while hasn't it! So, here's the deal. I'm not super happy with this chapter, but I decided to post it anyway. I would love to get your feedback as to how you felt about it…I don't know there is just something about this one that rubs me the wrong way. So let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer:** If I was J.K. Rowling I would be so freaking pleased with myself that every other sentence I said would be "did you know that I wrote Harry Potter." And, as I obviously don't do that, it is safe to say that I am not her and she is not me and Harry Potter is not mine. *sigh*

** Chapter 9:**

Hermione had cried while she slept. Her subconscious feeling the pain that she had refused to feel while awake. It wasn't something that she did often. In fact, she hadn't had a good cry since right after she and Ron ended things. And even that hadn't been as bad as last night. When cried, she really cried. There were no quiet tears and runny noses that could be muffled by pillow or a shower. Instead, Hermione wept. Curling her knees up to chest, as if to protect her already battered heart from receiving any more blows. Harry had heard her the entire night and had even gone in to check on her several times. Each time she lay asleep, weeping into her pillow. And each time when he woke her she said that she was fine and that it must have been a nightmare. After the third time Harry gave up, sleeping on the floor by her bed, holding her hand while she slept. When the sun rose he stood, back aching from the wood. He gave her shoulder a small shake,

"Hey 'Mione," He said gently, coaxing her out of her dreams. She moaned slightly, turning to face him. "I just wanted to let you know I'm taking Ginny into Muggle London for the day. That is unless you need me (or her) to stay with you." He said, once she opened her eyes enough to be awake.

"No, go." She said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and sitting up. "I'm fine. Really. I just need a nice long shower and strong cup of tea." Harry nodded,

"Alright, but if you need me…"He trailed off as she started to look a little angry.

"Harry, I'm fine. I'm not a blubbering school girl anymore. You don't need to be so careful around me. So Ron called me a couple of names…it's not the end of the world." She lifted up a stack of papers from beside her bed. "Besides, I have lots of work to get done before my shift tomorrow night. So I wouldn't even be around if you were here. Have fun and don't worry about me." Harry nodded, placing a kiss on her forehead before heading back downstairs and through the floo network.

* * *

After a few minutes, Hermione sighed, getting up reluctantly. She hadn't lied to Harry, not really. She was fine. Her entire body felt numb, like her heart refused to believe what her brain was telling it happened. She wandered aimlessly down to the kitchen. The cut on her hand from the night before was looking rather red and puffy. She did a quick healing spell before putting on the kettle for tea. She walked through the entire house, then. Not really having a destination. She walked through the halls searching for answers, as if she might have dropped them, like a sock, while taking her washing up to her bedroom. The tea kettle began to sing but she didn't stop wandering. Two emotions were waging war in her head, each trying to dominate her mind. She was angry. She was angry at Ron for treating her poorly. She was angry with herself for letting him upset her. She was angry at Fred for treating her so kindly and making her feel all soft inside. But she was also sad. Sad that it appeared she and Ron would never move past this. Sad that as much as she wished it, she couldn't undo the past. Sad that nothing seemed to work out anymore.

"You are a big girl, so act like it." She told herself sternly when, for no reason, her eyes welled up with tears. "You knew this would happen so you just have to deal with it. You knew he hated you. You knew that!" She said, walking back up to the second floor of the flat. Suddenly, she found herself in Harry's room. There were books and clothes thrown all over the floor, as if he had emptied every sing drawer looking for something. It was really impossible for him to be a neat person. She waded through the filth until she reached his closet. There, under a stack of Quidditch Monthly magazines and a couple of his old Hogwarts textbooks was a loose floor panel. She pried it up with magic and removed a bottle of cheap muggle scotch. She smiled, taking a swig from the bottle, cherishing the burn in the back of her throat. She had known Harry kept it hidden for fear of Ginny finding it. For some reason, Ginny forbade Harry from drinking, something about 'not wanting a bloody drunk as a bloody boyfriend'. Hermione thought that Ginny was mostly afraid that, with all the trauma Harry had been through, he might turn to alcohol instead of her. So he kept it hidden, drinking only when the nightmares reached inky fingers around his heart. Hermione didn't mind his drinking. In fact, some nights, right after they moved in, they would sit in the broom closet, bottle slowly being emptied between them. Hiding from the memories that walked the halls at night.

She walked back in the kitchen, removing the screaming tea kettle from the heat. During her wanderings most of the water had boiled away, leaving only enough for half a cup. She let her tea steep before filling the tea cup the rest of the way full with the liquor.

Before she even got to enjoy her spiked drink, an owl began furiously tapping at the kitchen window. She stood, swallowing half the tea in one gulp

"Merlin! Hot! Hot!" She yelled as the tea burned her mouth. She spit it back into the cup. She unlatched the window before turning on the sink and letting the cool water run over her mouth. The owl waited patiently, as if knowing that pecking Hermione would most likely result in death.

"Hello Pig." She said, realizing it was Ron's owl. "I wonder what you have for me. Or perhaps you don't have a letter at all. If I was Ron's pet I would try and escape too." The owl dropped the note in Hermione's hand and abruptly turned, flying back the way it came. "I guess Ron didn't want a reply." She said stiffly, pulling open a letter a little too roughly. The corner of the page ripped slightly and she cursed under her breath. When did she start cursing? She wondered. She quickly realized that it wasn't from Ron but from Mrs. Weasley.

_Hermione,  
Would you mind popping over to the burrow for a few seconds  
when you get a chance? There are a few important things I think  
we need to discuss and I would just love to see you. No need to  
send a reply dear, just come whenever you get this!  
Mrs. Weasley_

Hermione frowned, fighting of the urge to take another swig of scotch directly from the bottle. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was go to the Burrow. Ron would be there, she was sure of that. And with Ginny gone with Harry and Mr. Weasley at the ministry it would just be the three of them. She shuddered that the very thought of that awkward interaction. Then a thought struck her, making her uneasiness skyrocket. What if Mrs. Weasley and Ron didn't think she knew about last night? What Mrs. Weasley carried on like normal? Worse than that, what if Ron—out of guilt—was night to her? How was she supposed to respond to that? She wasn't just going to smile and nod and act like everything jolly and good. Although Harry had been rather vague about what exactly Ron had said about her, she was the brightest witch of her age. And it didn't take and idiot to put two and two together to figure out the gist of what was said. But was she really going to let a few names make her hide in the corner? Hadn't she dealt with egotistical purebloods during all her years at Hogwarts? She was Hermione Granger and words couldn't hurt her…right?

She took a death breath, deciding that no red headed twit would scare her off. She was going to march right into their house, act as if she had never been happier. Hell, maybe she'd even mention that she met someone…at work, yeah that sounded plausible. She had met a nice, handsome research assistant. He studied in Ireland and was new to London. She had better use the name of one of the actual lab assistants in case Ronald happened to check the employee database to see if she were lying. There was one Irish worker. Hermione struggled to remember his name. He worked in a different department than she did. She had met him at the Christmas party though. What was his name? Fintan! That was it Fintan Daily. Hermione smiled, this would work out just fine!

Pig was growing irritable. He kept pecking at the faucet. Hermione patted his head dug around in the cabinets until she found a box of owl treats.

"There you go Pig. You can go now," She said, releasing his leg. Hermione, filled with the newfound confidence of a fake lover, took one last nip of scotch before pulling the floo powder out and heading off to the Burrow.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **My darlings! I hope you are enjoying this. So this chapter was very difficult for me to write. Probably because I was in the midst of planning an entire Murder Mystery Party in three days (if I ever have to create book page bunting again, I might explode). Anyway, I would really appriacte your opinions on this chapter, past chapters, where you think the story should go, or anything else really.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah so in case you haven't noticed…I'm not J.K. Rowling. If I was, I wouldn't be writing essays on gender socialization in modern society. Instead, I would be writing more Harry Potter books simply because I could!

** Chapter 10:**

Mrs. Weasley was not an anxious person by nature. Once she made a decision she left herself little to no time for regrets. However, as she paced her kitchen, waiting for the owl to reach Hermione, her palms began to sweat. She knew she was meddling perhaps a little too much this time. But this was her family, and she did not fight in any bloody war just to watch her family crumble to sugar dust afterwards. She sat herself firmly in a chair by the fire, waiting for Hermione to come. The floo network was the best way to get from Grimmold place to the Burrow, so it was most logical that Hermione would come through there. But no one entered through the flames. Surely the owl had gotten there by now. Perhaps Hermione was getting dressed. Yes that had to be it. Mrs. Weasley decided, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Ron, currently scrubbing out the pantry, could be heard mumbling to himself. After a few minutes Mrs. Weasley decided that a watch cauldron never boiled so she might as well make herself busy. She put on a kettle and got three teacups down from the cupboard. She then went about placing various spells on the kitchen so that no one, except herself, could use magic. She then brought out the mince pies from the day before and cut three slices. Just then the front door swung open. She turned, expecting to see Hermione, but instead Fred and George waltzed in.

"Hello mother!" they chorused. Each kissing her on the cheek.

"Goodness, boys! What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were stopping by. And Fred what is all over your shirt?" She said, pointing to George.

"First: I'm George. See?" George said, turning so that she could see his missing ear. "Second: Shame on you for not knowing your own sons! And third: It was an experiment that went wrong. I was hoping that you could fix it for me." He said. She shook her head.

"Honestly, at your age why you can't do your own laundry is beyond me." She put her hands on her hip, staring him down for a moment before nodding. "Go change into one of your father's shirts, then bring that down and put it in the washing room." George smiled before bounding up the stairs and out of sight.

"Could we also stay for pie?" Fred asked hopefully, his stomach growling at the sight of the three slices of pie on the table.

"How about I give you some for the road?" Mrs. Weasley said nervously. She hadn't planned on having anyone else interrupt her scheme.

"Mum, are you expecting someone?" Fred asked, eyeing the dishes on the table again. "Because unless you had another kid while we were gone, there are only two of you at home right now." Mrs. Weasley turned a rather alarming shade of pink. She quickly recovered her wits, frowning at her son.

"That reminds me, Fredrick Weasley. That you owe your brother an apology."

"Why would I apologize to George? I'm not the one who messed up his shirt." He said, playing dumb. Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow.

"You know who I mean, Fredrick. I know what he did was wrong. But what you did was wrong too. Even if you did it for the right reasons." Fred frowned at his mother, looking in the direction of the pantry, where a serious of crashes could be heard.

"In the name of Merlin's arse how do muggles do this?" Ron yelled to himself. Fred smiled, but quickly frowned again.

"I would apologize. Really Mum I would, but if I look at that git right now, I might just punch him again. I will apologize to him, if he apologizes to Hermione. And I mean really apologizes. Not those 'sorry for being caught' lines he gives her all the time. No, I want a good honest apology." Fred said. Something clicked in Mrs. Weasley's head and she fought the urge to smile. Her Fred was finally growing up. She wondered if he understood his own heart yet.

"Well Fred, life doesn't always work that way. Sometimes only one person has to courage to be sorry." She looked again toward the fireplace, "But I will let you cool off a bit more. Why don't you head on home. I'll send George in a little." She started ushering him toward the door.

"Mum. What's going on?" Fred demanded. "Who is coming over that you don't want me to see?"

"No one dear." She said. He gestured toward the number of cups. She sighed, crossing her arms. "Fine, I am having a guest over. But you and your brother will not be present. It will be a private conversation between her and Ron." Her eyes widened as she realized she gave herself way. Fred, who had been expecting anything but that, felt his mouth pop open in an "O".

"Mum, you didn't" He said, hoping he had misunderstood her. "Why would you drag her into this?" He asked when she said nothing. "She shouldn't be forced to look at him ever again. What are you trying to make happen?" He was getting angry. George, wearing an oversized white dress shirt, stuck his head in the kitchen.

"Everything alright in here, you two?" He asked, "It sounded like you two were…shit." He said, when at that moment the fireplace turned a vivid green and none other than Hermione stepped through. Her cheeks were flushed and her curls were framing her face wildly. Fred stared, the anger draining from him like water. It leaked out of his face and was replaced by a swirl of emotions that he refused to categorize. Hermione frowned slightly at George.

"Nice to see you too, George." She said. Fred smiled, she had always been able to tell them apart, even before George lost his ear. She said their noses were slightly different, even though no one else could see it. At the sound of her voice all noise from the pantry ceased. It was if Ron was suddenly trying very hard to seem like he was not there. Hermione took a step forward, stumbling slightly. Fred, who was standing nearest to her, reached out to steady her shoulders.

"Hi." She breathed. He smelled something harsh on her breath, had she been drinking? It wasn't even eleven yet! He wanted to ask why, or do something to help but something stopped him. Instead he just whispered,

"Hi"

"You can let go now." She whispered back to him. He realized that his hand was still gripping her waist: His thumb on her bare flesh where her shirt was riding up.

"Right. Sorry. What are you doing here 'Mione?" Fred asked, rooting his hands in his pockets, trying to forget the feeling of his skin on hers.

"You're mother asked me to come. She said she had something to discuss with me…privately." Fred noticed that she seemed a little thrown. As if she didn't want him or George there. He admitted that it stung.

"And that's our cue to leave." George said, dragging his twin away from Hermione. Fred yanked his arm out of George's grasp, turning to his mother. He leant down to kiss her cheek, whispering so that no one else could hear.

"She's been through enough. Don't you dare cause her more pain." It wasn't a threat, but it was a reminder. Mrs. Weasley didn't respond. She just turned back to the stove to fetch the boys some pie. However, she did feel a little unsure of her plan now. Something…new…had come into the mix. Whatever Mrs. Weasley had been expecting, this hadn't been it. She turned back to Fred, handing him a small container of pie. He gave her a very serious look as he took it from her. He might have said more, but George once again grabbed Fred by the arm and dragged him from the kitchen.

Hermione sat herself in one of the chairs, looking somewhere between exhausted and pleased.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" She asked, trying in vain to tame her curls by running a hand through them. If anything, Mrs. Weasley noted, it made them stick out more.

"Well it wasn't exactly me that needed to talk to you. And I hope you'll forgive me for that little lie, but I felt it necessary to get you here." She stage whispered. Hermione furrowed her brow, her well laid plan of letting Ron overhear about a nonexistent love life was falling to pieces. In fact, nearly all the fiery courage that had come with the liquor was drained from her, as if Fred had tugged it with him when he had left. She felt exhausted, like the same fragile Hermione she always was. Mrs. Weasley shot her an almost apologetic smile before saying loudly,

"Ronald, come in here please. There is someone here you need to speak to." Hermione's heart sank, as much as she had hoped Mrs. Weasley wouldn't get involved in her personal life, she had been wrong. If only Ginny were here, she would have saved her from this embarrassment. Or Fred. Yes, Fred would have helped her, she had seen the panicked and angry look in his eyes when he was whispering to his mother. Maybe he had figured out why Mrs. Weasley had brought her here, maybe he was trying to protect her. The thought of that made her stomach tie in a rather uncomfortable knot. Before she could figure out why, Ron stepped from the pantry. His shirt and hands were covered in flour. He glared first at his mother and then to Hermione.

"Well, what is it?" He snapped at his mother, trying to scrub off the flour with a wash rag.

"I believe you and Hermione have a few things to talk about." Mrs. Weasley said, "And neither of you are leaving this room until you have done so. My family has been torn apart for too long for me to let one messy break-up ruin it, right as it is put to right again." She grabbed her cup of tea and piece of pie, and walking toward the door.

"I have placed protection spells so neither of you can use your wands. Oh and I'm taking the floo powder." She grabbed the jar from atop of the fire place and waltzed out the door. The top of her head could be seen from the window, she had seated herself upon the bench right outside the door: Guarding them.

After a moment of tense silence Hermione plucked up the courage and began to speak.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Hello lovelies! So apparently my coping mechanism for dealing with relationship issues is to write fanfiction. So what was bad for me, is good for you lovely readers. I have several chapters written now, which means I can actually update in the next couple of days without having to put off my homework! Yay! Please let me know how you're enjoying this if you want to. But no pressure, I'm not you're mother I'm not going to make you say nice things.

**Disclaimer:** I own two copies of every Harry Potter book and I own a boat load of sweaters (I don't know why I have so many…I no joke brought over 30 sweaters to college), but I don't own Harry Potter.

** Chapter 11:**

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Fred said, rubbing his arm where George had been dragging him.

"What ever do you mean brother?" George said, all too innocently. They were back in the shop, the din of the ever excited costumers a steady soundtrack to their discussion. George took a very large bite of pie. "I did nuffin'"

"Like hell you didn't" Fred nearly yelled, shoving a stack of books onto the floor so he could sit atop his desk. "You knew what Mum was doing and you still dragged me out of there."

"What was the point of going home?" George asked, speaking as if he was talking to a very small child.

"Pie." Fred answered, gesturing to his forgotten plate next to him.

"And…" George coaxed. Fred sighed, giving in.

"And, you decided that I was obsessed with Hermione and needed to leave the shop for a bit."

"Exactly! So by Hermione showing up, it completely ruining half the point of going. So I got you out of there. No need to thank me." Fred glared at his brother.

"But you saw what Mum was going to do. She's going to play matchmaker and try and get Ron and Hermione back together."

"And your problem with that is?" George smirked, trying to get some sort of confession out of him.

"I don't have a problem with them together." Fred sputtered, his cheeks beginning to turn pink. "I just want her to be happy. She's my friend. And do you really think that having to have the relationship talk with Ron is going to make her happy?" George raised an eyebrow,

"Really Freddie? Because I think we both know that Hermione being with Ron wouldn't make you happy. Not at all." Fred was taken aback by the seriousness in George's voice. "In fact, I think part of the reason you don't want Mum meddling is because you like how things are. You like that 'Mione's a free bird. You like that you could have a chance if you ever stopped being a pansy long enough to actually admit your feelings. Her being with Ron will drive you mad and it's time you manned up and came to term with that." Fred, besides the burning red of his cheeks and ears that worsened every second, showed no emotion. He stared at his twin, somewhere between awe and anger. George wasn't one for humorless conversations, nor was he one to berate Fred. So the fact that within in few minutes he had managed to do both, left Fred speechless. "And besides, it's not like I'm going to go blabbing like a first year the moment you finally tell me you fancy Hermione." George laughed, his eyes lighting up and dismissing the somberness that had settled over his face.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't fancy her? I don't!" Fred whispered, finding his voice. "Ever since…I…er…woke up, she's been there for me. Even when she was going through all that stuff with Ron, she would still come up to see me on her breaks. She never complained to me, she just sat, eating her lunch. Sometimes she would even read to me. Half the time she thought I was asleep, but I wasn't." He paused, looking at the ceiling, tracing the intricate patterns as he spoke. "Did you know that after I mentioned to her how much I hated having that magical window that showed me anything I wanted instead of a real window, she pulled some strings and got me moved to a room with a real life view?" Fred said, he got quiet, the way he did whenever he was talking about his months spent in St. Mungos. George shook his head,

"I didn't know that. You know how I was during all of that." George said softly, remembering the bitter headaches that plagued him every moment he had been sober, which hadn't been very much.

"She's done so much for me, more than Ron or Ginny or even Harry ever did, and I can't ever repay her. No matter how hard I try, but instead of even trying I let Ron hurt her. Over and over again, he hurts her, and I can't do anything to stop him." Fred's voice began to rise, the color returning to his cheeks, "And the one time I might be able to save her from his rampage, you drag me away. I already feel so helpless all the bloody time, this just makes it worse." He threw his head into his hands, rubbing his temples to soothe the headache that had attacked him. George watched his brother, letting him have his moment. Since the battle Fred had been much more resigned. Keeping things inside, not even telling George. It had hurt him at first, until he realized that Fred had been shutting him out to protect him. He had seen how bad George had gotten during Fred's recovery, so it was natural to try and protect him.

"Okay, I get it. I won't tease you about it anymore. Maybe we can do something to teach little inkle Ronnikins a lesson." George said, an evil glint in his eyes. Fred looked up from his hands,

"What could we do?" He asked, rather hopelessly. "If we prank him, Hermione would get angry. If we set him up again it will make her feel guilty." George thought for a moment, smiling as the idea came to him.

"You know how upset he'd be if you were to walk in and snog Hermione, right in front of him. Wait, hear me out!" George said, tagging on the last bit when Fred started to open his mouth to interrupt. "Don't worry, I'm not going to snog her. I'm just thinking that if we can make him think you two are snogging when he's not around, it would make him just as mad." Fred raised his eyebrows. "You and Hermione have never been friends. Not like go out for drinks, take her out on her birthday, help her move on a Saturday just because you want to friends. If you suddenly become that, you will not only be furthering your relationship with Hermione, but Ron will assume you two are in a secret relationship." Fred began to smile, understanding the brilliance of George's plan, if it could even be called a plan.

"There's no backlash." He said, "If Ron gets angry, we can both confirm we aren't together. But if we do become better friends and he doesn't care, maybe I will feel like I don't owe her my life." His smile was contagious, leaking into George as well, making him feel giddy.

"And maybe, as a perk, she can fix my tattoo potion!" George said, gleefully pinching a little of the now congealed pink slime between his fingers.

"Alright, alright. I'll try. But how the hell am I supposed to just become her best friend over night?"

"Easy." George said, standing and parting the curtain out into the main shop. "You just have to prove to her that you are inndespensible."

"But how are we going—" Fred started, but stopped when George held up his hand.

"Tomorrow. Right now, we have a shop full of costumers and a shelf of instant darkness powder that looks like it was stocked by a five-year-old. Come on, well iron out the rest over take out, my treat. I won a bet with Dean and earned myself forty sickles." Fred followed George out into the crowd,

"Don't you owe me sixty-five sickles for dying Ron's hair blue last month? I got a howler for that one, it was the day of family pictures." George laughed loudly, causing a third year boy to jump, nearly dropping the pygmy puff he was holding.

"Fine, I guess that means you're buying"


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **My lovely, fantastic readers. You inspire me every day. Thank you. This chapter was written a few days ago, right in the midst of some relationship issues. Let's just say the first draft had a lot more anger in it. I felt as though Hermione wouldn't be able to have a prolonged fight with Ron, as she still isn't quite able to handle it. That is why I made their confrontation quite short. I would love to hear your opinions if you would like. I hope you are enjoying this, and I hope that my personal issues didn't cause me to mess up this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** *insert clever comment about me not owning Harry Potter here*

** Chapter 12:**

Ron had heard the twins arrive. At the very sound of Fred's voice his nose began to itch, as well as his fists. That prat was just asking for it, coming back here only hours after he punched Ron in the nose. There was quite a lot of talk going on between the twins and his mother, but strive as he did he couldn't catch every word. All he knew was that there was something about laundry and something about pie. Suddenly Fred's voice turned nearly into a whisper, at least he thought it was Fred as his mother had instructed George to go and do something a few moments ago. Ron, who was standing on a chair trying to get the top shelf clean with his wash rag, leaned toward the half closed door: trying to understand what was being said. He leaned a few inches too far and the chair toppled over beneath him. He fell to the floor, bringing two large metal bowls and a tub of flour with him. The tub opened, spilling the white powder all over the front of him.

"In the name of Merlin's arse how do muggles do this?" Ron yelled, forgetting momentarily that his mother was only a few meters away. There was still hushed conversations going on in the kitchen but Ron was no longer paying attention. His main focus was on the nearly thirty minutes of work that had just been undone by the stupid flour. It was everywhere, along the shelves, on the flour, even some had managed to work its way into his hair. The tiny white particles shaking lose every time he moved his head. He began trying to wipe it off the floor with the rag, not realizing that it would become a sticky mess. He sighed loudly.

Fred and his mother were having some form of a row. Whenever Fred got mad he would get quiet. Ron remembered the time he had broken his brother's broom only a week before he started school. Fred had just looked down at him, eyes alight with rage, and whispered "That broom was mine. I worked for months to get it, and you don't break what is mine!" Ron had cowered under the twin's glare, feeling very small as he held up the broken pieces. The next morning he had woken up with no clothes in his room at all. In fact, Fred had hid them so well that he had to wear his pajamas to diagon alley with his mother to buy an entire new set of clothes.

His attention was drawn back to the conversation in the kitchen when George, who usually never cursed around their mother, stopped midsentence to say "shit." Ron was about to pop his head from the pantry to see what was wrong when a new voice spoke.

"It's nice to see you too George." Hermione said. Ron stopped dead in his tracks. He, as quietly as possible moved to the door of the pantry, staying out of sight, to listen to what was said. Why was she here? She never just came by anymore. Even when she came for dinner she usually left early, claiming she had to work the next morning. There was some sort of whispering going on, but nothing he could hear. After a moment they started talking again but Ron was busying himself trying to clean the flour off. What if his mother called him in there, what if Hermione wandered into the pantry? He couldn't be covered in flour! He was brushing at his clothes furiously, not even hearing when his mother called out his name. After a second it registered that she had called him into the kitchen. Looking down, his shirt was still covered in flour, he stepped out of the pantry. There she was. Her brown hair loose and curly, she had been wearing it up lately. Merlin, he hated that she was so pretty. All of this was her fault. If she could have just stayed the bucktoothed know-it-all he would have been happy. No, she had to go and discover hair product and learn to hold her tongue. After the war every wizard in Britain wanted to bed her.

"Well what is it?" He snapped, trying to get some more of the flour off. Mrs. Weasley responded but he didn't hear her. Nothing mattered but Hermione. She was watching him. Some of the overwhelming sadness had left her eyes. She was nervous, he could easily see that. She shifted awkwardly as Mrs. Weasley continued. Ron only caught about every third word of her speech. He was doing everything he could to control all of the emotions raging inside him. He missed her, he really did, but she had left him. Just picked up and gone without much of an explanation. And because of that he hated her. Boiling his blood until it scalded his veins. She was taking everything he loved from him. She didn't deserve Harry or Ginny. She didn't even deserve whatever friendship was between her and the twins. She deserved nothing. Nothing but the empty gnawing pain that had left him sleepless for months. Nothing but the sadness and betrayal that ripped through his heart, tearing it like parchment. Nothing but what had been done to him.

His mother left the kitchen, seating herself outside the door, within hearing distance. Ron didn't make a move. He couldn't even meet her eyes now that they were alone. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows for a moment (Merlin, he had loved when she did that) before slowly opening her mouth. She began to speak carefully, as if rolling the words around in her mouth before deciding if they were alright to be spoken.

"Hello, Ronald." She said, catiously looking him in the eye. "How…how have you been lately?" She was trying so hard to be nice. There was something there beneath her surface. A secret fire that was burning, giving her strength. Ron hated the way she appeared self-assured. His anger caused him to snap at her, the words biting the air as they crashed against her. He whispered so that even his mother's exceptional hearing wouldn't be able to pick up what he was saying.

"Cut the crap. Let's just get this over with." He sat down roughly in the chair across from her. Letting the table be a barrier between them. "Is this some ploy to get me back? 'Cause all you had to do was ask, Love." He said snidely. Smirking at her momentary frown. She narrowed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Alright Ronald. If you want to 'get this over with' then be my guest. I have somewhere to be anyway." She said, with what he imagined sounded like hurt in her voice. Had he hurt her? She probably did want him back. Good, he could teach her a lesson. Show her that Ron Weasley didn't do second chances! They could have it out: h could just tell her off and be done with it. But still, a tiny voice in the back of his head spoke up. What if he wanted her back? She obviously would take him. Before he could decide what he wanted she spoke again, holding her tea cup between her small hands.

"What?" She asked quietly, blowing the steam away from her cup and causing tiny waves on the surface of the dark brown liquid. "Afraid of a little confrontation?" She looked at him, batting her eyelashes slightly. She was being coy, Ron noted. And it was working. He watched her the way a sea captain watched the ocean from the shore. Longing that he could once again go back to where he was happy. His hand was sitting on the table and he nearly jumped when she gently placed her hand in his. She smiled sweetly and for a moment Ron felt like everything was back to normal. That it was just a regular afternoon and Hermione was his again. He smiled and was about to say something when, like removing a mask, her smile disappeared. She still gripped his hand, but this time there was anger behind it. "Because you didn't seem to mind confrontation last night." She then took her tea cup, dumping the still hot liquid over his head. He cried out as heat enveloped his head. She patted his arm, placed the tea cup gently back on the table, and walked to the door, flinging it open.

"I hate to run, Molly." She said, referring to Mrs. Weasley who had jumped when the door burst open. "But I'm afraid Ronald isn't able to continue our conversation." She smiled all too kindly. "Oh and he seems to have burned himself, he might need some assistance." With that, she walked steadily up the hill, not looking back. Only once Ron's angered shouts at his mother were only a distant noise that was carried away upon the wind did she allow herself a moment. She wiped her eyes furiously, trying to remove the tears that had begun to steadily fall. She wasn't cut out for this. Not for the anger and the harshness. She allowed herself one glance at the burrow before disapparating to the first place that entered her mind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **Oh my darlings! How I missed you! I am so terribly sorry that it has been so long. I am also so terribly sorry that this chapter is so short. I have had so much going on lately and I figured if I gave you a shorter chapter, I might be able to get it up sooner. I hope you enjoy it, please feel free to let me know what you think. I love reading your comments, they inspire me.

**Disclaimer:** I only got roses and chocolate for Valentine's Day because apparently becoming JKR and owning Harry Potter isn't "a very logical dream gift!" Well fine…I guess it isn't.

** Chapter 13:**

Fred groaned, tipping back in his chair. George laughed, shoving another mouthful of the chicken into his mouth.

"Come off it Fred. It's not that hard!" George laughed again, snorting a bit of the food and causing are rather lengthy coughing fit.

"Really? You want me to go to her work and ask her out for drinks?" Fred said once his twin had begun to breathe again. "Isn't that asking her on a date? What would I say?"

"First" George said, gulping down some water and wiping the tears from his eyes. "You aren't asking her out to drinks with you…that would be a date. You're asking her out to drinks with us…that is just a group of friends getting a little tipsy and enjoying each other's company."

"But you won't be there!" Fred said, exasperated.

"Yes, but she doesn't know that. Just say you came for your monthly check up and that you and I were going out afterward. Suggest that she come with us. Then, once she agrees and you arrive at whatever pub you decide to go to, I will owl and say that Angelina had an emergency and I had to go help out. Problem solved." He ate some more of the dinner, since Fred didn't seem to want any. "Now who's your most favorite brother ever?" George said with a wink. Without missing a beat, Fred frowned and replied

"Bill."

"Ouch!" George said, feigning a wound to the heart. "You injure me brother!" Fred punched in lightly in the arm.

"You're so sensitive! No wonder Angelina spends so much time with you, you're practically one of her female mates! You scheme like them." George shook his head,

"I don't scheme. I plan."

"It's the same thing!" Fred nearly shouting. "Using a synonym doesn't change the meaning."

"They mean two totally different things. If I were to scheme I would happen to accidentally lock Hermione and you in mom's pantry and refuse to let you out until, you did some proper snogging! I am encouraging a friendship between her and you, there is nothing wrong with that!" Fred downed half a butter beer in two large gulps.

"Okay, maybe I see your point. However, am I just supposed to ask the receptionist to buzz her and say what, 'Fred Weasley showed up at the hospital for no reason and now wants your company?'"

"Of course not! I sent Hermione an owl while you were in the loo, claiming to be you of course. I asked her to tell Harry, when he got back from his date with Ginny, that you wouldn't be able to have the quidditch match tomorrow morning because you had an appointment at St. Mungos at 10:30." He smiled proudly to himself, "that way, she knows you're going to be there and won't be surprised when you show up! And for the sake of the ruse I of course made you an actual appointment at 10:30 since you skipped your last two and hid in the canteen." Fred sunk a little lower in his chair, at his twin's accusation. It was spot on, of course, but he didn't like his family knowing that he was skipping his head doctor check-ups. His mind was quickly distracted from his guilt when a though hit him.

"That is so scheming! You are doing all this just so Hermione and I run into each other you wanker!" George smiling, shoving the rest of his food in his mouth before standing from the table.

"That's the other thing about scheming…it's only scheming if it works." And with that he waltzing out the door and back down to the workshop to bury himself in his pink slime research.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **Oh darlings, would you forgive me if I apologize profusely for making you wait so long? Because I am so terribly sorry. I wonder if you have forgotten all about me…Well I am still here. And I have missed you so very much. I wish I had a good reason for leaving you in the dust for so long…but I don't. It seemed that in a matter of a week several huge parts of my life came crashing down around me. So every time I tried to write this chapter it came out with all of my own pain and feelings of betrayal…It took a little time for me to gain enough distance to be able to write this without killing off both Fred and Hermione in a freak microwave accident. I hope you all still love me, because I love you all. Each and every one of you is a huge inspiration, and I love hearing from you!

**Disclaimer:** Even though I would totally win in a Harry Potter Quote-off between me and J.K.R. I highly doubt she would let me have the rights…so yeah, I still don't own HP.

** Chapter 14:**

Conner Fitz had lost his swipe badge again. The young research assistant cursed his stupidity as he sat by the bay doors at St. Mungos. It was only his second week on the job and he was already screwing it up. He ran a hand through his hair, building up the courage to go to Dr. Farner's office and ask for a new card for the third time. He would be so upset! Just as he was about to push himself off the floor, he heard the sound of angels singing. Well, really he just heard the sound of clicking high heels but it had the same effect on him. Someone, other than Dr. Farner was coming, and she had to have a badge! A brunette witch came around the corner. He stood quickly, smiling sheepishly.

"May I help you?" She asked calmly. Her badge hung around her neck, declaring her "HERMIONE GRANGER, RESEARCH ASSISTANT."

"I seem to have…um…lost my badge. I think I left it on my desk. Is there any way you could let me in?" Conner blurted. She sighed, raising her eyebrows a little.

"You're new aren't you?" She said with a half-smile.

"Yeah…how did you know?"

"Because you're badge is sticking out of your jacket pocket." Conner quickly reached into his pocket and felt the cold plastic. He blushed.

"I guess I stuck it in there last night…" He quickly swiped it, letting the door click open. She smiled kindly at him before walking through the door. He trailed behind, collecting his folders of data from the day before. Dr. Farner came in then, his rotund cheeks flushed from the effort of walking the ten feet from his office into the research lab.

"Granger!" He called. The girl turned to him, "I need you to focus on summarizing the Bitropsy Skele-Gro Immunity case today. I need the full report by tonight as well as the new vials of the reactive serum potion sent for testing." Her chocolate eyes widened at bit. That was one of the most difficult cases that the team had worked on all year. Fitz wasn't even allowed to look at the file.

"Doctor," She called out, "That is a five hundred page file! You can't expect me to do that on my own." She somehow managed to sound assertive and pleading at the same time. Fitz prepared himself for the snappy reply of Dr. Farner. He was never one to mince words. The other lab assistants fell silent, as they waited for her reprimand. Fitz saw the girl standing closest to him drop an extra drop of mandrake root extract into the healing potion she was currently working on. A puff of blue smoke altered her to her mistake as the smell of burnt olives overtook the space. Dr. Farner wrinkled his nose at the smell, turning to leave.

"Get Fitz to help you." He said calmly, lumbering into the hallway. "He never does any work anyway!" He called as the door shut. Fitz blushed furiously, as Hermione appraised him. With a wave of her wand she summoned a stack of folders into his arms.

"Let's get started." A slight blush colored her creamy cheeks, "I want to be able to take an early lunch. I think I have someone to meet" She smiled slightly as she walked toward her desk, Fitzy trailing like a lost puppy behind her.

Dr. Milor's office was all the way at the other end of a long hallway. Fred always felt it was rather cruel to make one walk down a completely silent hall toward a large wooden door. It left a lot of time to contemplate the rather painful aspects of life. On this particular trek, Fred's mind was consumed with thoughts of a certain witch. Not the lovey dovey thoughts that might plague a lovesick man, but worries. He was anxious that, given the opportunity, she wouldn't really want to be his friend. After all they really didn't know each other. Did they? His feet made soft clicks along the tile as he neared the door. But the overwhelming thought that seemed to make everything else distant, was what frightened him the most. What if he did like Hermione? He really hadn't liked many girls. Sure he had quite a few relationships but most of the time the girls asked him out and he just went along with it. Was he even sure he knew what it meant to fancy a girl? Was it the clenching of his stomach when Hermione laughed or the way he loved how she would bite her tongue to stop from answering a rhetorical question? Did that qualify as fancying? He didn't think so, but then he also wasn't sure what it qualified as.

He reached the door then, pushing it open with a loud creak. The witch behind the desk looked up at him. She smiled sweetly, a few of her light curls falling from the bun atop her head.

"Fred!" She said happily, summoning his file. He shifted from one foot to another. He used to enjoy flirting with her. She was very…aesthetically pleasing. And she had taken a liking to Fred. However, today his mind was so enwrapped that he didn't even wink at her as he was ushered through the door and into the examination room.

The doctor was already waiting for him. Her unnaturally red lips turned down in a frown.

"Fred. I see that you are actually here today!" Fred shrunk back a little at the biting tone in her voice. The older woman tapped her wand along the examination table, cleaning it. "Have a seat so we can have a little chat." Internally Fred let out a flow of curses. The only thing more terrifying than his mother wanting a chat, was his doctor. She levitated one of the plastic chairs that were for parents or spouses and charmed it so that they she would be at eye level with him. The doctor pulled out a file and magic quill that wrote as she spoke.

"Okay Fred, I see here that it has been…hmmm…about three months since our last appointment." She looked up from the folder and frowned. "You do remember that this is supposed to be a monthly check until two years is up?" Fred gulped, nodding his remembrance.

"I know, and I'm sorry." He said simply. "But I feel fine." The witch seemed to ignore him, and continued on with the questions.

"Are you experiencing any dizziness or loss of sight?"

"I get a little dizzy every now and then, but nothing extreme." The quill scratched against the parchment.

"Have you been sexually active since our last appointment?" Fred felt heat rushing into his face.

"Umm, n-no." He sputtered. The doctor seemed unfazed. He had a sudden desire to explain that it wasn't from lack of opportunity, simply that he wasn't one to whore himself out just for the hell of it.

"Okay, any trouble sleeping?" Fred hesitated. She looked up, "Are you still having night terrors?"

"Yeah. But I mean, not every night. Just sometimes."

"How often would you say they occur? Answer honestly, please."

"Umm, three or four nights a week." He paused, "But sometimes I'll get more than one in a night. I'll wake up from the first, shake it off or get a drink and when I go back to bed it starts over." She nodded at his words, flipping a page in the file.

"Do you find that you are anxious, jumpy, or worked up easily?" Fred thought for a moment before nodding. He was startled more, and he seemed to get so anxious about things that they would go around and around in his head.

"Do you feel any pain or headaches? I see that the last recorded one was over six months ago. Is that still the case?"

"Yep, I get headaches from reading sometimes or minor things like that, but not anything bad at all. Nothing over a 1.5 on that pain chart you gave me." He glanced up at the clock on the wall above the door. It was nearly eleven. What if Hermione went on her lunch break and all of this was for not? Luckily for him, at that very moment the doctor stood from the chair and tucked the folder under her arm.

"I would like these appointments to continue, I am going to set up a full body examination with one of the techs for next month. However, I am going to strongly recommend that you see about finding a therapist or other mental health professional. I believe you are suffering from some post-traumatic stress symptoms that could be removed with a little counseling." She handed him a card and a prescription for some potion and walked out the door. It clicked softly shut behind her as Fred sat in stunned silence. He didn't need a therapist. He was perfectly fine. He looked down at the card she had handed him "Dr. B. Howsworth, St. Mungos Psychiatrist." He scoffed, there was no bloody way in hell that he would let some shrink, tell him that he was emotionally unstable. He shook his head, swiftly leaving the office without as much as a glance at the nurse behind the desk. Once he reached the lobby all anger left him and was replaced him a strange mixture** of apprehension and elation. It was time to find Hermione.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **Hello dears! I've missed you! So if you follow me, you are aware that I have begun a Dramione story entitled "End of Malfoy". Have no fear, dear ones. This is still my top priority. You are my first, you will always be my favorites! You are all so kind to me, and I truly love every single comment you make, and I am going to try and attempt to respond to you. So feel free to tell me what you think!

**Disclaimer:** The fact that I am writing this on a laptop that will soon wheeze its last wheeze, I think it is safe to assume that I am not JKR and that I haven't written 7 bestselling novels!

** Chapter 15:**

Hermione's eyes flitting to the clock again. She was hastily writing along the parchment, trying to get down as much information as possible. It was ten past eleven, perhaps Fred wasn't going to call. He always used to when he came to appointments. Then again, he hadn't in the last few months. Maybe he decided it was too much effort. A twinge of disappointment ached deep in her stomach, blooming like spilled ink up into her throat where it lodged itself. Fitz, who had been staring at her on and off for the past hour, placed a tentative hand on her arm.

"Miss Granger?" He said, looking up from an extensive list of potion ingredients. "Just go to lunch. I'll finish up here. All we have left is the final summary and a few vials of the potion. I'll be done before you get back."

"Thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Fitz. But I'm not even sure if I have lunch plans." She paused her frantic scribbling to massage her cramping hand. Trying to summarize a two yearlong study into a readable file was quite a task.

"Just get out of here." Said the boy, with a lopsided grin. "The Doctor won't be back until this afternoon, and I've got a handle on things here." He gestured with his hands, accidentally knocking over a jar of Willow's Breath. It crashed to the floor, shattering against the hard linoleum. He blushed scarlet, bending down to sweep the pieces into his hand.

"Well, alright." Hermione said, her head beginning to pound. "I could use a break. I'll be back in an hour. Then you can have your lunch." She replaced the parchment into the folder, doing a quick cleaning spell to make sure she didn't have any ink stains on her hands. Fitz waved to her happily as she left the lab. He sighed to himself, placing what little of the Willow's Breath that was still usable on the table. He muttered a cleaning spell, before turning back to the work. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, this was far too much work for one person…oh the things he did for pretty girls.

* * *

Hermione walked up through the "Rare and Magical Disease Ward" Stopping briefly to speak to the head healer on one of her cases. The boy that he was treating had ingested a slew of potions trying to turn his hair blue and instead managed to give him some contagious form of blue chicken pox. The case was fascinating to Hermione, but she managed to pull herself away from the doctor and continued on toward the lobby area. She was planning on milling around and looking conspicuous until she "ran into" Fred. She didn't have to wait long. As soon as she pushed through the double door, nodding to one of the security guards, she ran smack dab into Fred. Literally.

"Oh, I'm terribly sor— 'Mione!" He said, realizing that the witch he had just plowed into was the girl he was looking for. "Merlin, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He was slightly frantic as she had knocked her face against his chest with quite a lot of force. She nodded, a small trickle of blood leaking from her lip, where she had bit it upon impact.

"I'm fine." She said. Smiling at the man. He frowned, lifting his wand and healing the cut.

"Now you're fine!" He stated with a wink. He felt quite light and airy in her presence. As if he might just float away if her gaze wasn't tethering him to the earth.

"How was your appointment? Everything well and fine up there?" She asked, tapping his skull with her finger. He laughed loudly, drawing a few glares from passing patients and staff.

"Everything is perfectly wonderful." He lied. He knew that telling her of what the doctor had said would only worry her. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to actually do anything about it. He was totally fine. "And on the topic of wonderful things." He said, "George and I are getting a drink tonight, at the Leaky Cauldron, after we close shop. You should come. It's been ages since we've all hung out." Hermione smiled, liking the idea of spending some time with the twins. Merlin knows she needed to get out of the house.

"I would love to, but I'm not sure if I'll be off in time. When are you meeting?" Fred gave her his most alluring smile,

"Whenever you get off work. We're flexible like that." She chuckled at his words, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Does eight thirty sound good?" She asked, her stomach growling as a man walked by carrying a takeout container.

"Eight thirty sounds perfect." He pointed to her stomach. "I better let you get some lunch, or you might starve to death before tonight." He turned without another word, not wanting to deal with all the awkwardness that came with goodbyes. Once his back was to her, he began to smile widely. He listened to her mutter a goodbye and quickly walk off in the general direction of the canteen. Fred had to stifle the urge to do some form of happy dance. He forced himself to take deep breaths, chastening himself for getting so worked up. She was just a friend. He needed to remember that…even when she smiled at him as if he was the only man in the room. He sighed happily as disapparated back to his flat.

* * *

George was lying in wait. Well more standing in wait…behind the front door. As soon as the room settled in front of Fred's eyes, he pounced.

"How'd it go?" George said eagerly. "Do I need to get the whiskey? Shall I call in the reinforcements?" By reinforcements he of course meant Dean who could always be counted upon to show up at a moment's notice and a bottle of hard liquor.

"It went fine." Fred said nonchalantly. "It's not like I was asking her out." He tagged on the last part, due to the fact that George was getting far too excited over a few friends going out for drinks.

"If it walks like a duck…" George said, whistling happily as he walked with purpose into Fred's bedroom.

"What the hell are you doing?" Fred said from the doorway, as George pulled several shirts from the closet.

"Well I can't let my only twin go on a not date with one of the sweetest witches we know, looking like a slob, now can I?" Fred didn't even bother protesting. He merely looked over his reflection in the mirror. He had been keeping his hair short lately, since George liked it that way, and it wouldn't do for them to look too different. He turned his head slightly, examining his nose.

"What are you doing?" George asked. "Is something wrong with your nose?" Fred shook his head.

"Hermione always says our noses are different, but I can't really see it." George laughed, handing him a stack of button ups.

"Sorry brother, I can't take your place tonight. Go try those on." Fred raised an eyebrow at his overenthusiastic twin. "Now! My lunch ends in fifteen minutes." Fred did as he asked, running a finger along the ridge of his nose, once George had left the room. He smiled to himself. No one else could see how his nose was different. But she did, and for some reason that filled with an indescribable joy.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: **Hello lovelies! I know, less than a week between updates! Don't get used to it though…as much as I wish I could spend all of my time writing fanfiction…college has other ideas. I am on Spring Break now, and will thus try to get some more writing done…but trying to write an essay in German and read the entirety of Sophia Petrovna in three days is proving to be a challenge. Well tell me how you feel about this story if you so desire. Your reviews are so inspiring to me that I might even get another chapter out before I go back to school. But no worries…I'm not one of those authors that will hold a story captive until you review. After all, that's not very nice!

**Disclaimer:** It is safe to say that I am not now nor will I ever be JKR. At least until they invent the machine that will let me switch bodies with her for a day. But when that happens I will let you guys know!

** Chapter 16:**

The hours seemed sluggish to Hermione. The minutes stretching endlessly into hours. She worked in silence, avoiding the ever "helpful" Fritz and trying to finish in a timely manner. By the time eight o'clock rolled around her head was pounding a steady rhythm and her patience was shot. This damned report took her the entire day. She had an entire stack of other work she needed to finish, which meant she would have to take it home with her. When the clock struck fifteen after eight, she put down her quill, stretching her fingers. Most of the workers had packed up hours ago, and the night shift researchers had already come in. Tending to potions and having quiet conversations. Fritz had left after nearly dumping an entire cauldron of Foxglove and Doxie Venom reduction. Hermione felt bad for the boy, he was obviously inexperienced and this would probably result in his termination. She sighed, looking at her reflection in a window that looked into an observation room. Her hair was in desperate need of some taming and it looked as if she were about to fall asleep. Oh well, it was only Fred and George. She scanned her card at the door, signally the end of her shift. The halls were nearly deserted in this section of the hospital. She was sure the patient portion was still buzzing but for the moment she enjoyed the solitude. Walking toward one of the working floo networks, she took a deep breath. For some reason her stomach was twisting into a nervous knot. Chiding herself for her childish behavior she walked into the fire, watching as thousands of destinations zoomed past her.

She stumbled a little, upon exiting. She heard a man next to her laugh.

"Drunk already, sweet?" His breath was thick with liquor as he laughed again. Amused at his own wit. She pushed past him and into the crowded bar. She didn't have to search long, there weren't many people with bright orange hair calling out her name.

"'Mione! You made it." Fred exclaimed, as if he half expected her not to show.

"Of course I did. I told you I would. Where is George?" She asked, the knot tightening a bit. Fred frowned slightly,

"Angie had some sort of emergency and demanded that he come." He mumbled. She raised an eyebrow, sensing that he was lying. But after a moment she smiled, deciding to let it go. "How was work?" He said, passing her a bottle of fire whiskey. She took a long drink, grimacing as it burned its way down her throat. "That bad?" He said with a laugh.

"Worse." She said, leaning back in her chair. "I had a major report to summarize that took up my entire day." She motioned to the large stack of folders next to her. "Which means that I still have hours of work to do once I get home." She took another sip from the bottle. "And I had to work with this new assistant, Fritz." Fred tilted his head at the name.

"Really? What was she like?"

"He" Hermione corrected him, "Was completely inept. He means well but he has horrible penmanship and cannot brew a simple reduction of Venomous Tentacula leaf to save his life!" Fred laughed loudly at her frustration. He realized that he was leaning across the table toward her, and quickly sat straight again. He watched as she finished off the bottle and motioned for a waitress to bring her another. Fred on the other hand, was nursing a glass of red current rum. The only thing that could make this 'interaction' that George had set up was for him to get sloshed.

"Well at least the bloke is trying. It would be worse if he left you to do all the work by yourself." He said, seriously.

"Okay enough about work. I'm so done with that. Tell me one thing that happened to you today that was funny." Fred wiggled his eyebrows, laughing.

"Only one? Oh love, my life is far too hilarious for merely one funny thing to happen a day!" And with that he broke into a story about a shopper who had managed to knock over an entire display of exploding skunk bombs. He didn't even notice as the crowd began to thin and Hermione began to get tipsy. It wasn't until much later when she began laughing and slurring her words that he realized how drunk she had actually gotten.

"It really was a bad day, wasn't it?" He asked her softly, pulling her arms through her coat.

"The worst." She mumbled. Letting him half carry and half drag her out of the bar. He decided it would be easier to just take her back to his place than to risk side along apparition. He swung her up so that he was carrying her. She laughed against his chest, her hair in his face. It smelled like sunshine and almonds. It was lovely.

"Have I ever told you," She said between fits of giggles. "That I used to have the biggest crush on you during fourth year." He suddenly walked slower. Allowing her time to continue talking, for drunk Hermione had suddenly become very interesting to him.

"Really?" He asked, flattered.

"Yep." She slurred, fiddling with the top button on his shirt. "I secretly hoped you would ask me to the Yule Ball. But then Krum did, and I knew it would piss Ron off more." Fred nodded, climbing the stairs up to his apartment. "I'm just gonna…." She said quietly, nuzzling against his neck. He smiled at her as he adjusted her so that he could open the door.

George was waiting up for him. He was about to say something when he noticed Hermione.

"Shit. Did you kill her?" He asked laughing. "Did you bore her to death?" Fred gave a halfhearted kick at his twin before gently placing Hermione on the couch.

"She's just a little drunk." George shook his head, motioning to a glass filled with brown liquid.

"No, brother, I'm a little drunk. She's totally and completely wasted. Why'd you bring her back here?" Fred summoned a blanket from the front closet and placed it gently over the sleeping girl.

"I figured it was easier than trying to get her back home." He shrugged. Hermione mumbled something in her sleep about potions. Fred smiled at her. George snorted.

"You've got it bad." He whispered. "Totally arse over elbow for the girl."

"Am not." Fred said. Moving away from Hermione as if to prove the point.

"You think about her all the time. You get nervous around her. You even find drunk Hermione cute. Face it, Fred. You fancy her. Hell, you might even love her. You might as well admit it. It would sure as hell make my life easier." He shook his head, going back into his bedroom. Fred stayed in the poorly lit sitting room. Did he fancy her? It was all so confusing. He leaned over her, brushing a curl from her face.

"Goodnight 'Mione." He whispered, kissing her temple softly.

"Fred," She mumbled happily, rolling to face the back of the coach. A thrill shot through his body at the way she caressed his name. If fancying Hermione meant that she would speak to him like that when sober…well he liked that idea very much. Yes. Yes he did like that indeed.


End file.
